"You can readily reach Wolf Glen within a couple of hours.

There you will rest a while and return as you choose.
So I will expect you at midnight." "Unless something happens to prevent." The words of Monteith Sterry were uttered jestingly, but they caused a pang to the affectionate parent as she asked: "What could happen, Monteith ?" Fred took it upon himself to reply promptly: "Nothing at all." "Is the ice firm and strong ?" "It will bear a locomotive; I never saw it finer; the winter has not been so severe as some we have known, but it has got there all the same; Maine can furnish the Union with all the ice she will want next summer." "There may be air-holes." "None that we cannot see; they are few and do not amount to anything." Here Sterry spoke with mock gravity.
"The name, Wolf Glen, is ominous." "We have wolves and bears and other big game in this part of the State, but not nearly as many as formerly.

It hardly pays to hunt them." "I hope we shall meet a few bears or wolves," said Jennie, with her light laugh.
"And why ?" demanded the shocked mother.
"I would like a race with them; wouldn't it be fun!" "Yes," replied Sterry, "provided we could outskate them." "I never knew that wild animals skate." "They can travel fast when they take it into their heads to turn hunter.

I suppose many of the bears are hibernating, but the wolves--if there are any waiting for us--will be wide awake and may give us the roughest kind of sport." Fred Whitney knew his mother better than did his friend and understood the expression on her face.

So did Jennie, and the couple had such sport of their Boston visitor that the cloud quickly vanished and Monteith felt a trifle humiliated at his exhibition of what might be considered timidity.